R&I - Monday, Monday
by Fenway03
Summary: There's only one Rizzoli who should be with Maura when she's stuck with a bomb… (very loosely based on episode 4x15).
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:**__ Anybody else trying to forget that ridiculous coffee bomb scene from 4x15? Well, here's a different take on this idea. Some suspension of disbelief may be required because I had to improvise… But hey, at least there are no silly coffee pads in this one. Seriously, what the hell was Tamaro thinking?! There should have been two full episodes — one with a real bomb, and one with Maura's nosebleed situation. So much potential simply wasted…_

_Anyway… here it is. Just a one-shot this time (split into three chapters for easier readability). And if Tamaro can use a fake bomb to force a fake relationship, I might as well use a real bomb to force a real relationship, eh? _

_At some point in this story, they'll talk about a "pneumatic ratchet system". If you don't know what that is and if I fail to explain it properly, go to YouTube and search for "pneumatic vs bungee". There's a video by Jason Oettlé that'll show you how these things work. Fun stuff!_

_And as usual, the characters belong to Tess Gerritsen/TNT; the rest is my fault._

_Last but not least, a special shout-out to a special friend, who unwittingly introduced me to this whole fanfiction thing. You know who you are. Happy (belated) birthday!_

* * *

_**(PART 1)**_

…

It is precisely 7:44 a.m. on a breezy Monday in May when Jane and Maura arrive at BPD in the medical examiner's dark Prius and the rain finally stops again. For the third time this morning.

The first time was when Jane still lay sprawled out in bed, comfortably hidden under her duvet, with her mind lingering at the transition between being too sleepy to crawl out of bed and being too alert to ignore the pesky sound of Maura knocking on her bedroom door in anticipation of their planned morning run. _It's pouring like hell out there… we'll have to reschedule,_ Jane murmured into her pillows. And just then, the rain stopped — resulting in her duvet being pulled away by an inappropriately cheerful Maura and her being forced to trade the warm sheets of her bed for the cold water of her shower to jump-start her tired bones.

But almost as soon as the first jets of water startled Jane's shivering skin, the clouds outside also regrouped, and just moments later, the city of Boston was getting showered again as well. And thus, as Jane emerged from her bathroom and the prospect of another hour in bed transformed her grumpy grimace into a triumphant smile, Maura's expression changed the other way round. But just when Jane opened her mouth to seal her victory with a mischievous joke, the downpour outside stopped as suddenly as it had begun. For the second time. And despite Jane's vocal protest, the skies refused to provide her with another excuse, leaving her no other choice than to follow Maura downstairs for their run.

Thirty minutes later, right when they returned to the shelter of Jane's apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothes, the rain also returned.

And now, as they're both sitting in Maura's car parked at the curb in front of BPD and Jane wonders whether she could squeeze in a quick nap while waiting for the rain to stop and her shift to begin, the weather thwarts her plans once again. Tiredly watching the last few drops sliding down the windshield, Jane huffs in frustration and grabs her blazer and gun before getting out of the car. And she is pretty sure that some cranky weather god in the clouds above is fighting his Monday morning blues by turning on and off his hose at exactly the right moments to annoy the hell out of her. Maybe she would have to arrange for a deicide before tackling today's homicide cases…

At least, the thought of treating her equally petulant stomach to a plate full of pancakes in the Division One Café prevents her own bad mood from getting worse. But as she marches to BPD's main entrance, she suddenly stops in mid-stride and realizes that a certain someone is missing at her side.

As Jane turns back around, she finds Maura still standing next to the driver's door of her car while absentmindedly putting on her wrinkle-free blazer. And in contrast to the hunger and discontent written all over the detective's face, the medical examiner's features are calm and composed, her cheeks still rosy from her earlier runner's high. Oblivious to her surroundings, she lets her eyes wander around, enjoys the fresh breeze and the scent of the rain.

And for a moment, the sight of the blonde in all her morning glory, with a few shy rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds and illuminating her profile, is enough to stifle the impatience still raging in Jane's veins. She pauses in silent admiration, her eyes fixed on Maura — until a distinctive growl in her stomach reminds her of a more urgent matter.

"Could you do your little melodramatic pause after we've had breakfast?" Surrendering to her Monday mood, Jane waves at Maura to hurry up.

Unimpressed and immune to the detective's mood after too many Mondays spent together, Maura smiles in amusement, locks her car, and strolls towards the BPD building — pointedly _not _hurrying. "If you had listened to me and had a nutritious breakfast before our run, your body wouldn't be craving carbohydrates right now."

"Your suggestion would've required me to get up at 5:30," Jane moans as they reach the main entrance. "And really, I'd do a lot for you, but we gotta draw the line somewhere."

Choosing quite wisely not to argue with the grumpy detective this early in the week, Maura enters the building as Jane habitually holds the door open, then makes a beeline for the elevator down to the morgue.

Confused by the blonde's apparent disinterest in a pit stop at the Division One Café, Jane calls after her. "Uh, hello?! Breakfast is served over here…"

But in contrast to Jane, Maura did provide her body with the necessary fuel for their morning run, and now she is eager to get to work. "I told you I'd have to check the lab results for Detective Crowe's case first thing in the morning."

For a few seconds, Jane's eyes switch back and forth between Maura and the café — longing equally for both options, with an almost negligible momentary preference for pancakes. But when Maura continues making her way towards the elevator, Jane slouches her shoulders with a sigh and rushes after the blonde. "It's too late for that anyway — you've already done at least eight or nine other things this morning… fifteen if we count each pair of shoes you tried on."

Her smirk is met with a subtle eye-rolling from Maura as they're both waiting for the elevator.

"Come on, Crowe is a jerk," Jane begs again, the thought of her mother's sweet pancakes still feeding her hopes to change Maura's mind. "Let him stew a little longer…"

"I prioritize _your _cases all the time," Maura points out. "Every once in a while, I will have to treat your colleagues the same or I will get accused of giving you favorable treatment."

"No, no," Jane protests firmly. "I've actually _earned _that favorable treatment."

Head tilted and eyebrow raised, Maura studies her face in curiosity. "Really? How?"

Certain of her impending victory, Jane grins. "I got four words for you: yoga, kale, and babysitting-your-stupid-turtle!"

"Those were seven words, and one of them was so wrong that it might lose you some of your priority points…" When the elevator door finally opens, Maura steps inside. "Just go and have your pancakes. I'll join you as soon as I'm done downstairs."

Ignoring her stomach screaming _yes, yes, yes,_ Jane poutingly follows her into the elevator and pushes the down button. "No, you can't let me have breakfast alone — I might accidentally enjoy it when you're not there nagging me."

"You're always so charming in the morning," Maura teases back.

And the blonde's obvious joy at having prevailed against the temptation of a plate full of pancakes temporarily fills Jane with another kind of satisfaction. At least for a few moments — until the lack of actual nutrients makes her stomach growl again. A little embarrassed, she glances at Maura from the side. "Just FYI, if this elevator gets stuck, I might have to resort to cannibalism…"

Seconds later, they step out of the elevator and into the hallway leading to the Crime Lab and to the Chief Medical Examiner's premises. The clacking of heels and the stomping of boots echo from the walls of an otherwise quiet floor until the two women reach the door to Maura's office, and she fishes her key out of her purse.

"Remind me to pick up the file for the McCollough case," Maura murmurs, more to herself than to Jane. "I'll have to check some details for my testimonial."

Stopping halfway through a yawn, Jane perks up at the mention of that case. "When is that again?"

"Wednesday afternoon," Maura announces as she turns the key but then pauses when she finds her office already unlocked. Assuming that one of her over-zealous assistants must have been inside before her, possibly to deliver some case files or to prepare the first autopsy of the day, the medical examiner shrugs and enters the room, turns on the lights, and flicks the switch on a power strip to boot up her computer.

Casually dropping her blazer on Maura's office couch, Jane trudges inside as well. "Well, hopefully, there won't be any further delays…"

"Don't worry," the blonde assures her. "The case is clear now. He won't get out of this."

"Sure hope so. It's about time that bastard got locked up for the rest of his life," Jane mutters, her tiredness mixing with shades of anger as she remembers the McCollough case. What initially looked like a possible suicide or natural death quickly turned into a homicide investigation revolving around Darren McCollough and his meticulous preparations of his wealthy wife's untimely demise. He had thought of almost everything — from faking a happy marriage when strolling through their Dorchester neighborhood with his wife, to securing himself an alibi in the form of a two-week business trip, to using thallium as his weapon of choice. And after mixing the fast, tasteless, and almost undetectable poisoner's poison with his wife's bottled water at home, so the deed would be done after his return from his trip, all he had to do was play the grief-ridden widower and rightfully inherit his wife's fortune. But there were two things that Darren McCollough hadn't expected. The first was that a certain medical examiner had, coincidentally, read about thallium poisoning just a few days before performing her autopsy of Mrs. McCollough. And the second was that the same medical examiner would deviate from her usual refusal to guess and instead follow her hunch based on the victim's inexplicable loss of hair, a common side-effect of smaller doses of thallium. And eventually, after rigorous lab testing and even more rigorous gumshoeing of the homicide squad, the team at BPD unraveled McCollough's insidious plan, tracked down his order of thallium-containing pesticides from overseas, and handed him over to the prosecution.

As Jane's thoughts wander from their felon's fate to that almost natural match of her detective instincts and Maura's endless expertise that has landed so many suspects behind bars, a smile slowly appears on her lips — until Maura sits down in her chair and an eerily familiar clicking noise rips the detective from her reverie.

And instantly, her pulse soars up. "Don't move, Maura!"

"What?" Confused, the medical examiner freezes, still leaning forward as she was about to reach for her keyboard to log into her computer.

"Just don't move," Jane repeats, swallows hard, and rushes to Maura's side.

Afraid to find her gut instinct confirmed, and even more afraid of the consequences of such confirmation, Jane kneels down and looks under Maura's chair. And there is the source of that clicking noise — a tiny black box fixed to the seat, with two blinking red dots and a few wires wound around the chair's leg.

Suppressing the fear suddenly gripping her body, Jane keeps a straight face and looks up. "Well, the good news is, you won't have to worry about my unhealthy breakfast any longer…"

But Maura recognizes the subtle timbre of panic that the detective is trying to conceal from her voice. "And… the bad news…?"

"I think you're sitting on a bomb."

Hit by the full force of this verbal bombshell, Maura stiffens, clutches the chair's armrests, fights the urge to jump up and to run away as fast as she can.

And Jane knows that they will only get out of this now if they resist their instincts, if they stay exactly where they are, if they remain calm. A split second before Maura gives in to her panic and raises from her seat, Jane reaches for her hands, provides both comfort and pressure that prevents her from getting up. "Don't worry. Just sit still for a moment… Maybe it's a fake…"

But even though the touch of their hands has the desired effect, it cannot stop Maura's brain from analyzing her predicament. "Why would someone place a fake bomb under my chair?"

Biting her lip and mentally playing through all possible scenarios herself, Jane squeezes Maura's hands a little tighter. "I'll call Frost and Korsak, and we'll figure it out, alright?"

Without waiting for a response, Jane whips out her cell phone, speed-dials her partner's number, skips all courtesies. "Frost, it's me. We have a little situation in Maura's office. We are—" She pauses mid-sentence, and an angry frown fills her face when Frost's sniggering and a whispered joke to Sergeant Korsak in the background reaches her ear. "No, not _that _kind of situation, Frost! It's serious — call the bomb squad, get Korsak, and move your asses down here! Right now!"

She hangs up and glances under the chair again. Trying to focus on the _who_, _when_, and _why_, she somehow musters a reassuring smile for Maura. "It's gonna be fine…Just do your yoga breathing or something…"

But the change from lighthearted morning banter to a deadly rendezvous with a bomb is too sudden, and even though Maura tries her best, a few rounds of pranayama aren't enough to wipe the shock off her face.

Just then, as Jane is still kneeling next to Maura and holding her hand while the blonde is barely able to suppress her tears, Senior Criminalist Susie Chang appears in the door frame and stops dead in her tracks at the sight.

"Uh, I'm… sorry…," she stutters, awkwardly fidgeting with the paper report in her hands. "I… I didn't mean to… uh…"

But as uncomfortable as the encounter is for Susie, as necessary it is for Maura — a welcome distraction and a reason to focus on the safety of somebody else than on the danger for herself. "Are the DNA results for the Schuyler case already in?"

Still unsure of the proper protocol, and feeling Jane's piercing stare penetrate her skin, Susie nods faintly. "Yes, I've sent you an e-mail with—"

"Could you please go upstairs and inform Detective Crowe then?" A regained sense of determination fills Maura's voice. "He is urgently awaiting these results."

"Uh, yes, sure…" Susie finally manages to avert her eyes and begins her retreat.

"Thank you, Susie," Maura smiles politely, and relief fills her heart at the certainty of her assistant's safety.

But then the young criminalist hesitates and turns back around, curiosity winning over her habitual respect, or fear, of the detective that is so often found by Maura's side. "Are you two…?"

"No, we are not," Maura quickly denies. "Please, take care of Detective Crowe's case."

Not quite convinced but eager to tap into her other resources at BPD to find out what is going on, Susie withdraws from her spot and hurries to the elevators.

"We are not what?" Jane asks casually as she focuses her attention back on that dreadful bomb, her fingers still entwined with Maura's.

"Doing what she thought we were doing…," Maura murmurs absentmindedly, then inhales deeply to let another pranayama interval slow down her racing pulse.

"And what would that be?" Blissfully unaware, Jane studies the combination of wires and blinking dots that might make her Monday morning even worse.

Closing her eyes, Maura exhales as calmly as possible before she continues to speak. "She obviously thought you were proposing to me."

"What?!" Jane's head jolts up, bumps against the armrest of the chair. "Oww!" Rubbing her head, she notices Maura's startled look caused by the unexpected attack on her chair. "Sorry… But why the hell would Susie think that?"

Wondering whether her current situation could get even more delicate, Maura opts for the response least likely to give her hives. "Why would Detective Frost make a suggestive joke when you tell him that we have _a situation _down here?"

But the detective fails to pick up on the clues presented to her. Or maybe she just wants to keep up her pretense. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Jane."

"No, I—"

Cutting their moment short, Detective Frost storms into the office, with Sergeant Korsak in tow. "What's going on?"

"Under her chair." Without letting go of Maura's hand, Jane leans backwards to allow the two men access to the explosive threat. "Did you call the bomb squad?"

"Yeah, they're on their way," Frost confirms and kneels down, his actions mirrored in a slightly slower and less agile way by Korsak_._

"She sat down, and there was this clicking sound," Jane explains. "It's probably a pressure switch. And I guess, as soon as she gets up, it will… you know…"

"The bomb will go off," Maura finishes her sentence. "You can say it, Jane."

When Maura's eyes betray the fear she is hiding from her words, Jane steadies her own voice. "It won't go off, Maura. We'll get you outta here in a minute…"

"Looks like it has two triggers," Korsak interrupts them and points at the setup under the chair. "See that watch?"

Carefully bending down, Jane notices a small watch attached to the back of the black box. "Yeah…"

"Seems to be part of a second mechanism to make sure she can't just sit on the chair forever," the sergeant sighs.

Swallowing hard at the implications, Jane exchanges worried glances with her former partner. "How long?"

Korsak raises his eyebrows in concern, hesitates to put a deadline on Maura's life. "It's an analog watch…"

But Jane needs to know. "Meaning…?"

"One full round of the watch hand at most," the sergeant admits quietly. "Less than an hour now…"

And as the three detectives under her chair are still debating their options, Maura has already made her decision. "You should all leave."

But her suggestion is met with distinct disapproval.

"I'm staying," Frost declares resolutely. "I don't have any other plans."

"Me neither," Korsak agrees without hesitation, then heaves himself up, and nods to Frost. "Let's move her desk out of the way for the bomb squad."

As the two men carry the wooden desk aside, Jane's and Maura's eyes meet, and a silent alliance is formed. Apologetically, Jane turns to her homicide squad partners. "Actually… you two _should _leave—"

"Forget it, Jane," Frost objects. "We're partners, and Doctor Isles is one of us, so we—"

"You need to check the surveillance camera, Frost," Jane adds emphatically. "Find out when this bomb was placed and by whom. Maybe it'll help us defuse it."

Sensing a ruse, Frost looks at Korsak for support. But the sergeant just nods quietly.

Halfway through with her plan, Jane turns to Korsak. "And could you check upstairs if my mother is already in? She's expecting us for breakfast, and I don't need her to come down here… Tell her, we had to leave for a case or something…"

But now it is Korsak who cannot help but feel manipulated into leaving Maura's office. "You just want to get us out of here…"

"Please, Korsak."

Sensing the sergeant's hesitation, Maura smiles at him as convincingly as possible, given the circumstances. "It's alright. You can't do anything for me right now."

Giving up his fight, Korsak heaves a sigh, then drags Frost with him to the door. "Don't you dare get yourself blown up while we're gone!"

As soon as the two men are out of sight, Maura turns to Jane. Casually. "We have to make sure that no evidence is lying around in case this bomb goes off. Can you check my autopsy tables and—"

"Nice try, Maura," Jane cuts her off. "I'm not leaving you."

Maura bites her lip, worry filling her face. "We don't know how the triggers of this bomb work. It could go off any minute and—"

"Yeah, which is why I'll stay until I know you're safe." The detective's stubborn stare leaves no doubt about her intentions.

"This isn't a drill, Jane," the medical examiner protests nonetheless. "You could die."

"So could you," Jane counters. "I'm staying. End of discussion."

Defeated, Maura buries her face in one hand, rubs her nose and eyes with trembling fingers, tries to control her breathing again.

Unable to just sit and wait, Jane scoots closer, searches for a way to distract them both from the relentlessly ticking watch under the chair. "When was the last time you were in here?"

"Saturday afternoon, before we left," Maura murmurs without looking up.

"Did you lock your office?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Try to remember," Jane whispers, intent on getting Maura's brain to focus on anything but that bomb.

"I can't," Maura subtly shakes her head. "I was… distracted…"

"Distrac—" Jane's question comes to a sudden stop as she remembers how they left together two days ago, and how she kept on teasing Maura about one of her morgue techs' obvious crush on her. She doesn't quite know why she felt so inclined to probe the medical examiner for any signs of reciprocal feelings, but she does know that it might have sufficed to make her forget about her usual security routines. "Oh… I'm… sorry…"

Sensing the self-incriminating tone in the detective's voice, Maura peeks through her fingers and finds Jane absentmindedly staring at the floor, her eyes full of guilt. Roles reversed, she squeezes Jane's hand. "Even if my office was unlocked, they still would have needed to get past the security check to come down here."

Her eyes still fixed on some imaginary spot on the floor, Jane nods and somehow recalls the catalog of questions for cases like this. "Did you notice anything suspicious? Or did you get any threats?"

"No…"

For a few seconds, both women silently stare into the distance.

And inevitably, Maura's thoughts drift off again. "We should have gone for breakfast…"

Finally, the despair in the blonde's voice helps Jane snap out of her trance. Remembering her duty as a cop, and as a friend, and as so much more, she directs her attention back at Maura and smirks. "I promise we'll have breakfast soon. And I'll have some extra greasy pancakes so you can nag me all you want."

Seeking comfort in those familiar features, Maura musters a faint smile, clings to the detective's optimism.

"Just stay calm and sit still for a few more minutes, okay?"

"I'll try…"

Heavy silence fills the office again — but then, as if out of nowhere, a middle-aged man, dressed in a bomb squad uniform, storms into the room, a much too cheerful smile on his tanned face. "So, you two ladies havin' a little problem here?"

Not amused by the man's inappropriate enthusiasm, nor by the fact that he is all by himself, Jane frowns and glances at his name tag. "Don't tell me this is going to be a one-man show, Officer… Arroyo?"

"You can call me Dedo," he says before kneeling down next to Maura's chair. "The rest of my team and your sergeant are getting some equipment."

As if on cue, Korsak returns to the office, wheezing and red in the face. He quickly steps aside to make way for two more bomb squad officers carrying safety and scanning equipment.

Dedo points at the two men. "Meet Officers Fisher and Johnson… Now, let's get rid of this little sucker, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, he crawls under Maura's chair to scrutinize the still ticking box but then smirks up at the blonde. "Sorry, I usually buy a lady dinner before going down on her… guess we'll have to skip that part."

Secretly wishing their chatty companion were sitting in Maura's place, Jane grimaces at her but then decides to better keep an eye on the activities going on under that chair. As she catches a glimpse of Dedo's hand, she notices that he is missing his right little finger. "Uh, don't take this the wrong way, but what's your success rate in defusing bombs?"

Dedo glances at the brunette from the corner of his eye, notices her pointing at his hand. "Oh, that. Don't worry, it happened twenty years ago. Haven't lost any other body parts ever since."

"That's… reassuring…," Jane frowns, feeling anything but reassured.

"Hey, at least it got me a cool nickname," the bomb squad leader murmurs as he continues to examine the bomb.

When Jane doesn't quite get his nickname reference, Maura gladly helps out. "_Dedo _is Spanish for _finger_…"

"That is correct," Dedo confirms from under the chair. "Hablas español?"

"Solo un poco…," Maura replies, thankful for his attempt to distract her.

While everybody is waiting for Dedo's initial assessment, Jane turns to Korsak. "Did you find my mother?"

"Not in yet," the sergeant says. "Frost is upstairs checking the surveillance videos. And Cavanaugh is on his way back here from a meeting with the Mayor…"

"Alright, ladies," Dedo sits up and signals Fisher to join him on the floor. "We have a dual trigger system here: a pressure switch attached to the chair and an extra timer to make sure this sucker will blow up before you have a chance to get too comfortable…"

"Cut to the chase," Jane demands impatiently.

"We have about forty minutes to get rid of it," Dedo declares as bluntly as requested. "And unfortunately, your bomber didn't leave us any instructions on how to defuse it."

"But you do know how to do that, right?" Jane's piercing eyes refuse to settle for his ambiguous answer.

"We'll see," Dedo states hesitantly, afraid that the detective facing him might go off even before that bomb. "There aren't enough explosives to blow up the whole building… but definitely enough to rip a person nearby into pieces."

"Oh, don't be shy with the gory details here!" Deciding to send Dedo to a much needed sensitivity training, Jane tries to keep her impatience under control. Feeling angrier and more helpless by the minute.

As Maura senses her uneasiness, she soothingly rubs her thumb over the back of Jane's hand and turns to Dedo to break the stalemate. "What do you need me to do?"

"I'm afraid you can't do anything but sit still right now," Dedo admits, Jane's resultant glare making him grasp for a few words of comfort. "But don't worry, we'll get you off this chair." When he notices several people gathering in front of Maura's office, he nods to Johnson. "But first, we're gonna get everybody else outta here!"

Like a dog guiding a flock of sheep, Johnson shoves the curious crime lab assistants towards the elevators. But just like stubborn sheep, some of them refuse to be shooed away. And just moments later, a few lab coats find their way back to Maura's office door, with Susie at the front line. "Doctor Isles, what is going on?"

"No, no! No more people in here!" Dedo jumps up, prevents her from getting any closer. "Sorry, private party today." He pushes her back outside, whistles for Johnson to help him clear the hallway.

Noticing the hustle and bustle at her door, Maura sends her loyal assistant a stern look. "Susie, get everybody from the Crime Lab upstairs. Including yourself!" When the young criminalist still stands frozen to the ground, the medical examiner raises her voice. "Go! Now!"

Reluctantly, Susie finally obeys and follows everybody else upstairs, allowing the evacuation of the adjacent labs to complete.

For a few moments, Dedo stands guard in the door frame until he is sure that there won't be any further interruptions. But just as he is ready to leave his spot, Frost returns and expects to be let inside. Rolling his eyes, Dedo holds him back. "Sorry, you need to turn around right away."

Confused, the young detective looks over Dedo's shoulder and into Maura's office. "Jane…?"

When she spots her partner, she nods at Dedo. "It's alright, he belongs to us."

Sighing to himself, Dedo lets him pass, closes the door behind them, and they all gather in the office — Jane and Maura still inseparable at her chair, Fisher underneath it and now joined by Dedo again, and Korsak and Frost standing nearby.

Eager to reveal his news, Frost grabs the keyboard of Maura's computer, hits a few keys, and turns her monitor so that she can see it from her chair. "Someone's been in your office… hold on."

He opens a command-line interface to connect to another server, clicks through several directories, then opens a video file showing the exterior of Maura's office near the elevators. The time code dates the footage to Saturday. Frost fast-forwards through the file as Jane, Maura, and Korsak are waiting with bated breath.

Moments later, when the time code has switched to Sunday night, the video shows a man in a Tyvek suit rushing down the hallway with a backpack in his hand, then sneaking into Maura's office, and all the while shielding his face as if he knew exactly where the cameras were.

At the sight of the intruder, Maura stiffens and Jane frowns. "What the hell…?"

…

**_(END PART 1)_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_(PART 2)_**

…

As the video keeps on playing, Frost explains, "I've checked the security logs. Nobody signed in at the front desk that night. Doesn't look like he came down with the elevator…"

"The back entrance…," Maura murmurs, her voice trembling at the final confirmation that this truly isn't a drill or a joke.

"Frost, check if they brought in a body on Sunday," Jane orders.

The computer-savvy detective lets his fingers fly over the keyboard, opens the respective log file, squints as he studies its contents. "Huh…"

"What is it?" Jane and Maura ask in unison.

"Someone from the Crime Lab came in at a quarter to midnight… Julie Owens," Frost reads from the file, then glances at the surveillance video's time code — 00:21 a.m.

"Julie? No, she… she wouldn't be involved in this," Maura objects. "And clearly, this is a man in the footage…"

Trying to remember the face matching the woman's name, Jane attempts to understand what is going on. "Can you find out if Julie has checked in today?"

"Give me a second," Frost mumbles and checks another file. "No, she's not supposed to come in today. She's got a day off."

Jane worriedly studies Maura's face. "You sure about her?"

"Yes," Maura sighs, confused about Julie's name popping up in this context. "She's a kind young woman, Jane… She just graduated…"

"Maybe someone stole her ID," Korsak chimes in.

"Maybe…," Jane nods, and they all focus on the video as the man re-emerges from Maura's office and carefully closes the door. When he swings his backpack over his shoulder, the sleeve of his Tyvek suit accidentally rides up.

"Stop!" Maura orders in Frost's direction. "Can you go back a second?"

"Sure," he nods and rewinds the footage. "You recognize the guy?"

When the freeze frame fills the screen, Maura points at a tattoo visible on the man's wrist. "This tattoo… I've seen it before… It's one of the undertakers…"

"A lot of people have tats like that," Korsak forestalls any hasty conclusions.

"No, no, I remember this one in particular," Maura insists. "He said it was the Japanese kanji for _fierce_, but it's actually the kanji for _fear_…"

"I don't think anybody would try to kill you just because you've lectured them on their lacking language skills," Jane objects.

Insecure, Maura glances at the brunette squatted down at her side. "Well, you said my grammar lessons made you trigger-happy…"

"You know I was kidding," Jane smiles apologetically. "I like your etymology fun facts…"

"You do?"

For a moment, the bomb seems rather irrelevant.

"Yeah. Why else would I remember a word like _etymology_?" Glad to see a sparkle of hope return to Maura's eyes, Jane suddenly remembers their predicament. "Now, do _you _know the name of that undertaker?"

"Uh… Lance…," Maura decides after some thought. "But I don't remember him telling me his last name."

Jane turns to her partner. "Frost, can you—"

"Already at it," he cuts her off and opens the personnel database. Moments later, he finds someone named Lance and shows Maura the photo on file. "Lance Carter… is that him?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, let me check who that is…" Frost opens the NCIC database and eagerly taps his commands into the keyboard.

Meanwhile, Jane bends down to check on Fisher and Dedo. "How's it going down there?"

Dedo silently shakes his head.

Unable to see the bomb squad leader behind herself, Maura worriedly turns to Jane for an update.

"They're working on it…," the brunette declares unwaveringly, thankful that she doesn't get hives from lying.

But even without Jane's skin turning red, Maura knows that she is not telling the whole truth. However, she also knows exactly what is going on in the detective's mind, and so she decides to play along, and just nods, and pretends to be content for now.

"Doesn't appear to be his real name," Frost announces from behind the computer's screen.

Korsak leans over to take a look himself. "Run him through facial rec…"

While Frost is doing just that, Jane tries to keep Maura's attention away from that ticking bomb. "Did you notice anything else about that guy?"

She shakes her head. "No… He started a few weeks ago… I've only had a brief conversation with him…"

"Got him!" Frost bursts out and turns the monitor towards Maura. It shows a mug shot of the man. "Previously arrested for assault and robbery. His real name is Lance McCollough. Wait… didn't we have—"

"… another McCollough, yes," Jane finishes his sentence as she feels Maura's fingers stiffen in her hand. "Check if he's related to Darren McCollough." She then turns back to the woman at her side. "Looks like our old friend has no intention to let you testify against him…"

"They're cousins," Frost reveals moments later. But while he would normally jump from his seat and unleash the forces of BPD to hunt down their suspect, he hesitates. And so does Korsak.

"What are you waiting for?" Jane wonders impatiently. "Get a BOLO out, and call the prison to make sure Darren is still locked up and doesn't get to talk to anybody until this is over!"

But Korsak recognizes a familiar look on Jane's face — the same look he saw three years ago when she shot herself; the same look that he never wanted to see again. And he is scared to leave his former partner with that look on her face… "We can take care of this after we—"

"Please, go upstairs and make sure we get that sonofabitch," Jane begs. "We'll handle things down here. Don't worry…"

Knowing that they would have to drag Jane out of the room as long as Maura was sitting in that chair, Korsak finally surrenders and nudges Frost's arm. "Come on, let's go."

Worry etched on his face, Frost casts one last glance over his shoulder as the sergeant pushes him to the door and out of the office.

Almost simultaneously, Johnson pops his head in. "The Crime Lab is clear. Everybody is upstairs. Need help in here…?"

"Actually, yes, we need something from the car," Dedo declares and stumbles to his feet.

"Found a way to defuse it?" Jane asks hopefully.

The bomb squad leader shakes his head but then immediately puts on a smile as he steps next to Maura. "You're doing great. Can you sit still for a few more minutes?"

Maura nods silently and watches Dedo, Fisher, and Johnson gather just outside her office door.

Meanwhile, Jane risks another look at the watch, unaware that her face darkens at the sight.

But Maura notices it. "How much time do we have left?"

"All the time in the world."

"Jane…"

Feeling her hopes dwindle with every passing minute, Jane locks eyes with the blonde. "Thirty minutes…"

And even though Maura can already read the answer in the brunette's eyes, she has to ask anyway. "They don't know how to disable it, do they?"

"They'll find a way."

Forced to sit idle once again, Maura uncomfortably leans forward, just ever so slightly, then backwards again, trying to relax her aching back after having spent the last thirty minutes in the same position.

Noticing her discomfort, Jane yearns for a way to provide some relief. "Want me to get you some water or anything else?"

"How about a comfortable bed?" Maura sighs, barely able to stop her lacrimal glands from giving in to the stress.

"Can't you lean back a little?" Jane squints at the chair, searching for a way to allow Maura to shift in her seat. "If you move very slowly…"

Too scared to try, Maura just shakes her head and buries her face in her hands, seeking comfort in another yoga breathing exercise.

But then another idea crosses Jane's mind, and she squats down in front of the chair. "Just lean on me and try to relax your back…" When Maura doesn't show any inclination to move, Jane carefully reaches for her hands, avoids any hectic movements, and pulls the blonde's forearms down to place them on her own shoulders.

Thankful for the physical and emotional support, Maura rests her forehead on Jane's, her voice getting more somber. "You shouldn't be here…"

"Neither should you…," the detective murmurs when she feels both Maura and their dilemma weigh heavily on her shoulders.

And as far too many words are waiting to roll off their lips, they both fall silent instead, drawing strength from their nearness, while the watch is ticking away under the chair and the bomb squad's murmur outside is barely reaching their ears.

"I'm scared…," Maura finally whispers.

And even though Jane's heart also beats to the rhythm of fear, her own worries are way down on her priority list. "Can't believe I'm saying that, but how about some fun facts?"

Very much aware of the detective's strategy, Maura tries her best to engage her brain, but being just inches away from a bomb and even closer to Jane doesn't make it any easier to think straight. When she feels Jane encouragingly nudge her arms again, she finally blurts out the first fact that comes to mind. "Well… did you know that approximately 25,000 atomic bombs have been built, and there are still about 4,000 active nuclear warheads? You could easily wipe out mankind with that…"

"Huh… if that's not a _fun _fact, then I don't know what is," Jane chuckles, trying to sound as casual as ever. "How about something that isn't related to bombs?"

Just silence from Maura as she tries to gather herself…

"C'mon, give me something from your etymology archives," Jane tries again, unwilling to give up. "What's a fun tongue-twister or a really long word?"

"Etymology isn't the study of long or funny words but of word origin and history," Maura grumbles.

"And how do they call the study of fun words?"

"There is no name for that…"

"Well, there should be," Jane suggests. "There are a lot of fun words after all… like _cockamamie_… or _collywobbles_… or _doozy_…"

"Your vocabulary is quite formidable," Maura murmurs approvingly, a faint smile finding its way onto her lips.

"Isn't it?!" Jane grins. "Your turn… What's the longest word you can think of?"

Finally relaxing at the familiarity of their interaction, Maura lets her thoughts wander. And it doesn't take too long for an answer. "_Honorificabilitudinitatibus_."

"You just made that up," Jane protests, barely able to remember the word's last syllable.

"I did not," Maura objects. "It's from Shakespeare's _Love's Labour's Lost _and considered the longest word used in the English language with alternating consonants and vowels… It means _being able to receive honors_."

And coincidentally, Jane also considers this word to be the perfect way to distract her companion. "What was the word again?"

"_Honorificabilitudinitatibus_," Maura repeats effortlessly.

"Almost got it… Say it again?"

"_Honorificabilitudinitatibus_."

"And now three times in a row without breathing…"

Maura smiles in amusement, subconsciously lets her fingers travel up and down Jane's neck, and finds a moment of peace.

Before either of them becomes fully aware of the intimacy of their moment, the bomb squad men re-enter the office, and Dedo hesitantly clears his throat, waits for the two women to look at him. "We might have to find another way to get you off that chair…"

"Why…?" Jane asks with concern, while Maura instantly tenses up again.

Dedo steps closer, shyly scratches his head. "Part of the wires is inextricably wound around the chair's leg. And we can't really see or access the trigger mechanism. Obviously, we're not gonna take a wild guess and just cut one of those wires…"

"So, what's your plan?" The discontent in Jane's voice matches the animosity in her eyes.

Lacking his previous enthusiasm, Dedo looks around in the office.

"Just spill it out!" Jane's patience has run out long before the bomb's timer.

"Well, we have an idea," Dedo finally admits as he walks to the door to the adjacent autopsy room to check its dimensions. "We've been experimenting with a pneumatic ratchet system. Originally, it's been designed to pull soldiers off of land mines… It's similar to the installations used by stunt coordinators to send their stunt men flying through the air when they're filming explosions 'n shit…"

"But…?" Jane senses the doubt in his voice.

"It's a fairly new system, and so far, we've only tested it in a few simulations…"

"Well, today is your lucky day. You get to test it under real conditions," Jane declares decisively. "Let's do this!"

"It's risky…," Dedo emphasizes again.

But Jane points at Maura instead. "Riskier than her sitting on that bomb when the timer runs out?"

Unable to refute the argument, Dedo lets his eyes wander around, then nods to his men. "Get everything down here!"

Within the blink of an eye, Fisher and Johnson rush to the emergency stairwell and disappear out of sight.

"How exactly are you planning on doing this?" Maura asks quietly, her voice oddly calm in light of her fate, her thoughts already focusing on something else.

Dedo still inspects the door to the autopsy room. "Basically, we're gonna use a wire to pull you off that chair, through this door into the other room, and then we just let that bomb go off in here."

Jane tries to imagine his scenario. "And how do you—"

Before she can finish her sentence, some noise emerges from the stairwell, and an all too familiar voice echoes through the empty halls. "Jane?!" Seconds later, Angela Rizzoli's voice calls out again. "Jane, are you down there?"

The woman of said name frowns and looks at Maura. "How the hell did she get down here?!" Jane jumps to her feet, briefly squeezes Maura's hand, then dashes to the door. "Wait here!" Realizing the pointlessness of her words, she turns around and supportively looks at the blonde still stuck with that bomb. "You know what I mean… I'll be back."

And as Jane rushes out of the door, she almost bumps into the Rizzoli matriarch outside, whose motherly instincts and iron determination made it fairly easy to overcome all obstacles on her way to her daughter.

"What is going on?" Angela asks, out of breath and worry written all over her face.

"Nothing, Ma," Jane tries to calm her down. "Just a little Monday morning exercise…"

"So, it's just a drill? But they said it was real…"

"It _is _real, but everything will be alright."

"Is Maura in there, too?" Angela tries to catch a glimpse through the lowered blinds of the office windows.

Cursing to herself, Jane holds her back, shoves her towards the stairs. When another bomb squad member emerges from around the corner, Jane quickly signals him to escort her mother upstairs. "You can't be here right now. And I really don't have time to discuss this with you, so could you please go back upstairs like everybody else?"

But Angela's worries cannot be pushed away as easily. "Everybody but you and Maura…?"

"Ma… please," Jane begs, her thoughts already back in the medical examiner's office.

And even though Angela knows all too well about her daughter's occasional recklessness, she also knows that she will not win this argument as long as Maura is still in her office. "Promise you'll stop by for breakfast when you're done here?"

"I promise," Jane nods, fully aware that it's a promise she might not be able to keep.

Angela swallows hard, pulls the younger Rizzoli woman into a brief embrace. "Be careful, Jane. I love you." Reluctantly, she lets the officer lead her away.

"Love you, too, Ma," Jane murmurs as she watches her disappear up the stairs.

Once her mother is out of sight, Jane spins on her heel, ready to rush back into the office — but her plan is thwarted by Dedo blocking her way. "Sorry, you can't go back in there!"

"What the hell?! Of course, I can!" Ready to unleash the full force of her Monday morning mood on the unsuspecting bomb squad leader, Jane steps forward, her eyes shooting one last warning stare his way. But when he still refuses to move, it suddenly dawns on her. "Wait, that was _her_ idea, wasn't it?"

His feet still planted firmly on the ground, Dedo keeps a straight face. "Doctor Isles would like you to go upstairs and wait there until—"

"Forget it, I'm not leaving!"

"She made it very clear that she does not want you back in there!"

"Yeah, well, and I don't want her to sit on that bomb, and yet she does." Instinctively, Jane reaches for her gun, wondering how far she would go. "We don't always get what we want."

But Dedo still hesitates.

"Listen, I'm not going anywhere," Jane hisses between clenched teeth. "So, you can either waste more time standing in my way, or you can get back to doing your job and let me do mine!"

"She's not gonna be happy about that…," Dedo sighs, sensing his defeat. Begrudgingly, he steps aside.

"I know," Jane grumbles. "I'll never hear the end of it."

Without waiting for formal permission, Jane storms back into the office, finds Maura with her head buried in her hands and expecting to spend these last minutes by herself.

As the medical examiner looks up and faces a slightly disgruntled detective, she frowns in protest. "Jane? No—"

"Don't you ever do something like that behind my back again!" Deciding to leave it at that, Jane reclaims her spot next to the chair and peeks at the watch — just twenty minutes to go.

"Sorry, I tried…" Dedo apologetically raises his hands, then quickly escapes into the adjacent autopsy room.

Losing her hopes that at least one of them might get out alive, Maura shakes her head at Jane. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Because I haven't had breakfast yet," Jane groans. "I told you we should go to the café first…"

"You're more than welcome to go upstairs and have your pancakes _right now_," Maura suggests admonishingly and tries to prevent Jane from taking her hand, afraid that the comforting touch is not destined to last.

"And who's stubborn now, huh?" Jane insists and finally manages to link her fingers with those of the blonde.

Before the winner according to the stubbornness scale is determined, Korsak and Frost step back into the room. "Every cop out there is looking for McCollough," the sergeant announces but then frowns in confusion. "Why aren't they working on the bomb? What's going on?!"

"They're getting more equipment," Jane explains. "Small change of plan…"

Frost anxiously checks his watch. "Shouldn't they… you know… hurry?"

Right on cue, Fisher, Johnson, and three more bomb squad members appear. "Sorry, brotha," one of them politely shoves Frost out of the way as they carry their equipment inside — several wires, pneumatic pumps, and tools that might as well be part of a mountain climber's gear.

"In here," Dedo calls his men into the autopsy room. Moments later, the sounds of drilling and hammering and wires being installed are heard.

Then Dedo pops his head in again, notices Korsak and Frost standing around. "You two, can you get us some blankets, pads, whatever you can find?"

"What the hell are you planning to do?" Korsak frowns.

"You don't wanna know," Jane smirks.

"There are blankets in the Crime Lab… in the room next to the evidence storage," Maura points out quietly.

"I'm going to get some from the drunk tank upstairs — I'll be right back," Frost declares and dashes out of the room.

Korsak follows on his heels but takes a turn into the opposite direction, towards the Crime Lab.

Valuable seconds keep ticking away as Jane and Maura observe in silence how Dedo and his men move racks with autopsy instruments aside and install the wire routing for their ratchet system. And neither of them needs to look under that chair to know that they have only fifteen minutes left to change their fate.

Instinctively, the two women tighten the embrace of their hands, holding on to their bond that not even the threat of a bomb can divide.

When Korsak returns with several blankets under his arm, he casts a worried glance at the chair and its occupant before rushing into the adjacent room where Dedo points at a spot on the floor several feet away from the door. "We need to create a little landing pad, so she won't crash too hard…"

And finally, the plan dawns on Korsak. He lowers his voice so the women next door can't hear him. "You wanna pull her off that chair?"

Dedo nods. "We can't defuse the bomb. And there's not enough time to try anything else…"

The sergeant lets his eyes wander over the preparations. In disbelief. "But that's damn risky, isn't it?"

"Got a better idea?" Challengingly, Dedo raises his eyebrows.

But Korsak shakes his head and instead spreads out the blankets on the floor_._

Dedo grabs some of the equipment that looks as if it belonged to a mountain climber's gear and rushes back into Maura's office. "How are we time-wise?"

Jane peeks under the chair again. "About fourteen minutes…"

The bomb squad leader's face darkens when he realizes Maura's restricted freedom of movement. "Uh… we might have another problem…"

"Great!" Jane snorts. "I was beginning to get bored because things were going so well…"

Ignoring the detective's continued doubts in his abilities, Dedo unpacks the equipment — a vest with attached carabiners and safety straps to be fit around the bearer's legs — and points at Maura. "You'd have to put on this vest, so we can pull you off the chair… but since you can't really move…"

"Can't she just pull it over her head?" Jane wonders.

"No, the tractive force would be too strong and uncontrollable," Maura murmurs as she begins to understand how the system is supposed to work.

"Right," Dedo confirms. "The safety straps for the bearer's thighs make it easier to pull the body in a calculated direction…"

For a moment, they all ponder the situation — until Jane looks at Dedo, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Maura. "Is your ratchet thing strong enough to pull two people?"

Dedo considers her question, nods subtly. "You mean…?"

"I put on the vest and then pull her off the chair with me," Jane confirms, feeling Maura's hand stiffen in her own.

"No!" Maura's verbal protest matches her physical reaction. "I'm not going to let you do this, Jane!"

"You heard him, Maura," Jane tries to reason. "It won't work with you alone…"

"I would do it myself," Dedo interjects. "But I'm afraid my weakness for a good steak won't allow that…" A little embarrassed, he pats his belly. Even though he isn't exactly obese, he clearly weighs much more than Jane. "Our system has only been tested with one person, and we have to improvise with the installation here. The less weight to be pulled, the better our odds… And two of you are probably still lighter than any one of us…"

"Alright, then let's do it," Jane decides, gets up, and resolutely takes the vest from Dedo. "There's no time to argue anyway."

Helplessly, Maura watches as Jane puts on the vest. And for the first time in her life, she wishes she had an unhealthy predilection for pancakes as well… or for sleeping in… or for anything else that would have prevented her from sitting down in that chair this morning. Feeling tears well up in her eyes, she buries her face in her hands, tries to forget her surroundings and the possible consequences both for her and for Jane.

Seconds later, Frost returns with several blankets from the sobering-up cells and follows Dedo into the adjacent autopsy room, where he joins Korsak's preparation of the makeshift landing pad, while the bomb squad members are still rigging up the ratchet system.

When Jane has put on the vest, she hesitantly kneels down next to Maura and checks the watch under the chair. Ten minutes to go.

"It'll work," she tries to sound as convincing as possible and gently nudges Maura's arm until the blonde finally looks up, tears in her eyes.

Seeing the determination in the detective's face, Maura shakes her head in despair. "What do I have to do to make you change your mind?"

Jane shrugs. "Turn back time and not sit down on that bomb…?"

"You know I can't do that…"

"Well, then I can't change my mind._"_

"What if something goes wrong?" Maura asks, her voice cracking at the thought. "Think of your mother, and Frankie, and Tommy… and T.J. … If something happened to you, they'd be devastated."

"You think they wouldn't be devastated if something happened to _you_?"

"I'm replaceable, but you—"

"You did not just say that?!" Jane shakes her head in disbelief. "You are _not _replaceable, Maura."

"But they are your family, Jane," Maura argues. "I'm not."

"You still don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Blood makes you related, but love makes you family." A shy smirk plays on Jane's lips. "So, whether you like it or not, you _are _family."

Maura hesitates, still searching for a way to keep Jane from risking her life. Now maybe more than ever.

But the detective has no intention to continue this discussion. "How about we focus on getting you out of this chair now?"

Out of options, Maura nods reluctantly and reaches for the brunette's hand. If she can't manage to push Jane away, she might as well pull her closer.

Hoping that Maura won't notice the slight trembling of her fingers, Jane looks around in the office. "What about your stuff? We still have a few minutes, so pick whatever you wanna save, and we'll get it outside…"

"You…," Maura sighs.

Jane smiles warmly but ignores the subtle suggestion. "Anything else…?"

The blonde shakes her head.

"Not even your fancy tribal masks? C'mon, I know you like those…"

"Don't bother…" Maura takes another deep breath, tries to stay calm — until her workplace morale reminds her of something else. "But my computer and these case files on my desk—"

Jane turns to the adjacent room. "Frost?"

"Yeah?" He comes dashing into the office.

"Can you get Maura's computer and the case files on her desk out of here?"

Frost nods and begins to gather said things.

Maura watches absentmindedly, then points at a mug on her desk. "And this mug, please?"

When Jane's eyes land on the coffee mug and she realizes that it's the one with a comic tortoise and dog that she gave Maura for her last birthday, it only strengthens her resolve. And she knows there is no way she will leave this office without Maura. No matter what.

As soon as Frost has gathered all items, he hurries out of the office to deposit them in a secure spot around the corner.

"Time?" Dedo calls from next door.

Jane looks under the chair, her heart beating at least twice as fast as the watch is ticking. "About seven minutes…"

Anxiously, the two women wait for the men in the other room to finish installing the ratchet system and prepare the wire that is supposed to pull them away from the bomb.

And at the sight, Maura frowns. "It's not going to work… We're too heavy…"

"No, we're not," Jane objects, trying to muster a smile. "Remember, I haven't had breakfast yet."

But her attempt to lighten the mood goes unnoticed, and Maura shakes her head. "The required force to pull us beyond the bomb's range is—"

"Stop it, Maura!" Jane insistently squeezes her hands, forces the blonde to look at her. "I don't care what your stupid laws of physics say. This is BPD jurisdiction. My house, my rules!"

Before Maura has any chance to debate the validity of such logics, the noise in the autopsy room stops, and Dedo returns to the office. Everything has been prepared.

"Alright, we've rigged up the wire routing as best as we could. You're ready for take-off?" He looks around, makes sure the door connecting the two rooms is wide open. When he notices the two women's footwear, especially Maura's open heels, he nods to one of his men. "Hey, Fish, gimme your shoes!" Dedo then takes off his own heavy boots and hands them to Jane. "We can't put you in full bomb squad armor, but you should at least protect your feet… they'll be closest to the bomb when it goes off…"

Jane nods and takes off her own boots. Doubtfully, Maura slips out of her heels, trying not to move too much in the process.

And as Jane puts on Dedo's slightly oversized boots, the two bomb squad men quickly help Maura into her new footwear. "Five minutes," Fisher warns after squinting at the watch.

"I bet a pair like this is still missing in your collection, huh?" Jane smirks at Maura, trying to distract her from their impending stunt. With little success. "Just sneak it out afterward and keep it…"

As soon as they're done, Dedo and Fisher grab the wire that will decide the outcome of their plan and fix it to the carabiners in the back of Jane's vest. Meanwhile, the other bomb squad members already clear the area, but Frost and Korsak nervously linger around, unwilling to leave.

"You're not gonna make a scene, are you?" Jane attempts to play it cool, even though she feels her heart thumping like mad.

Realizing the pointlessness of any further protest, Korsak shakes his head and tugs Frost away. "We'll see you in a few…" Their eyes saying their last goodbyes — just in case —, the two men trudge out of the office, away from the glass windows, and wordlessly huddle up behind a wall around the corner.

Inside the office, Dedo nudges Jane and points at Johnson, who has crouched down behind a protective shield in the door frame. "I'll trigger the ratchet from over there as soon as you're ready. You're gonna land in the other room, the bomb will go off in here, and then we're all gonna have some fun cleaning up."

"Sounds like a plan," Jane nods, suddenly rather thankful for the enthusiasm still resonating in the bomb squad leader's voice.

"Less than four minutes," Fisher announces and leaves his spot behind the chair.

Dedo checks his own watch. "Alright, get the wire ready!"

Fisher hurries back into the adjacent autopsy room to make sure the ratchet installation holds.

As Jane feels the wire in her back tighten, she squats down in front of Maura, who is still wordlessly sitting in her chair. "You're ready?"

Barely noticeable, the blonde shakes her head. "No…"

"Great, me neither," Jane admits, tries to push her doubts to the back of her mind, and takes Maura's hands. "So, let's just do it then…"

Dedo nods to Maura. "Try not to stiffen your neck. Since you're gonna be pulled forward, the strain on yours will be stronger…" He then turns to Jane. "And maybe you can give that chair a little kick into the opposite direction when we pull you away… It'll earn you a few extra inches of safety…"

"Will try," Jane murmurs, her voice stifled by the growing realization of the danger she is in. But it's too late for a cop-out.

Dedo hurries to the office's door, kneels down next to his squad member, and checks his watch. "Two minutes… get ready!"

"You heard the man," Jane expectantly looks at Maura. "Get on board…"

"I… I can't…," the blonde whispers. "I can't move…"

"Yes, you can," Jane objects, and carefully pulls Maura closer without lifting her off her seat just yet. "C'mon, just entertain me with another fun word…"

"I don't know any," Maura denies, her mind fixated on the deadly device under the chair.

"You know every word there is, Maura," Jane points out as she wraps her arms around the blonde. "Just pick one."

And when Maura realizes that the only way to save Jane is to save herself, she finally moves forward, slides her arms around the brunette's waist and under her vest, and locks her legs behind Jane's. But she can't stop her body from trembling, can't control her muscles' yearning to escape from that chair.

And Jane knows she needs to distract her. Just for a few seconds more… "What's your favorite word, huh?"

Drawing strength from their embrace, Maura lets her thoughts drift off… remembers their morning together… how they got out of her car just an hour ago… how she wished that every morning would be as perfect as this… how she paused and let the brisk breeze tickle her senses… And she knows her answer to Jane's question. "Petrichor."

"Is that a disease?"

"No…," Maura whispers and buries her head in Jane's shoulder, blinking away a few tears. "It's the scent of rain on dry earth… Caused by a plantal oil that is absorbed by clay-based soils and released during rain. You've never smelled it?"

"I don't know…," Jane murmurs and instead breathes in the scent of the blonde in her arms. "I'm not really a fan of rain…"

"It smells like a promise… like a chance to start anew…" Maura's voice is barely audible, but at least she feels ready for whatever might happen next…

And despite the possible fatality of this moment, Jane wishes that she could somehow make it last forever.

"It's now or never!" Dedo's voice breaks the silence. "That thing will go off any second now."

"Just hold on tight, okay?" Jane whispers and protectively places her hand over Maura's nape.

Tightening her grip, Maura breathes a chaste kiss on Jane's cheek. "Thank you…"

"Do it!" Jane commands the bomb squad leader. "On the count of three…"

Dedo clutches the remote trigger.

"One…"

"Two…"

"Three!"

With that, he activates the ratchet.

…

**_(END PART 2)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**(PART 3)**_

…

And everything happens within the split of a second.

The wire snaps back… rips Jane off her feet… pulls her backwards… and she pulls Maura with her… instinctively kicking that damn chair away… just before it explodes… and the glass windows shatter into a thousand pieces…

And somehow, Jane and Maura land in the middle of the pile of blankets… crashing hard… their bodies lying motionless on the floor…

Then everything is engulfed in dust…

A cloud of temporary uncertainty…

And for another endless moment, the two women remain still in their tight embrace, eyes closed, wondering whether they have died and this is heaven… and if yes, it wouldn't be so bad…

"Maura?" Jane eventually whispers into the dust surrounding them. "You alright?"

"I think so…" Her response is weak, but it is there.

Jane carefully wiggles her toes in Dedo's large boots, then checks the rest of her body, feels it ache from the landing but notes with relief that all her limbs are still there. And just to be sure, she lets her hands wander over Maura's body as well. And as she verifies the physical integrity of Maura's shoulders, and her back, and her waist, waves of adrenaline and endorphins are gradually filling her veins, making her feel alive. Very alive. She grins. "Told you it would work… How about breakfast now?"

Coughing the dust out of their lungs, Fisher, Dedo, and Johnson find their way to the makeshift landing pad. When they see the two women alive, broad smiles fill their faces. None of them really thought this would work.

Indulging in the exhilaration surging through her body, Jane cheerfully returns their smiles. "That was great! Can we do it again?!"

Dedo takes off his cap, wipes beads of sweat from his forehead, and chuckles. "No, but you can trade places with our test dummy if stuff like this turns you on…"

"Sure, sign me up for that," Jane gives him a thumbs-up.

Johnson points at her forearm. "Uh, I think you're bleeding…"

"What?" Jane looks up, notices the blood trickling down her skin. "Oh, crap! You'd better get up, Maura, before I'm bleeding all over your dress…"

Eager to assist, the men help Maura up, then release the wire from Jane's vest and free her from its weight. Johnson inspects her arm. "Looks like you caught some splinters…"

Still shaken but following her physician's instincts, Maura steps closer and checks the wound. "You will need stitches…"

Johnson nods. "We'll take you to the hospital in—"

"No, no," Jane protests. "Maura can do it. Right?"

Feeling a tremor of her hand and attempting to decipher all the different signs coming from her body, Maura shakes her head. "I don't think I can—"

"Just do your best baseball stitch," Jane suggests with a smirk. "And don't worry about leaving a scar — I don't care."

Swallowing down her response, Maura uncomfortably shifts on her feet, then Johnson hands her some tissues to put on Jane's arm.

"Come on, you know I hate hospitals…," Jane tries again.

Maura shrugs at this all too familiar discussion. "Then maybe you shouldn't get hurt all the time…"

Oblivious to the subtle undertone, Jane presses the tissues onto her wound. "Hey, it wasn't my choice to—"

"Jane? Doctor Isles?" Korsak and Frost rush into the room, thereby cutting short Jane's excuse.

"We're fine…," Jane waves reassuringly at her partners.

"You got one crazy detective here, Sergeant," Dedo whistles approvingly.

"Crazy sounds about right," Korsak sighs when he notices Jane's cocky grin.

Almost unnoticed, Maura steps back, aimlessly wanders through the room, clearly not as excited as someone who has just cheated death.

"Alright, folks," Dedo claims everybody's attention. "Let's not get too cozy. We still need to check if there are any other bombs hidden down here!"

"Anything we can do?" Frost asks dutifully.

"Yeah, check your surveillance videos if your bomber has entered any other rooms," Dedo suggests. "My men are already searching the rest of her office, and we'll have a sniffer dog run through your Crime Lab, too."

"Alright," Frost nods and marches out of the autopsy room.

"I'll go upstairs and inform everybody else," Korsak decides. "Cavanaugh has just come in and wants to know what's going on."

"Uh, Korsak…?" Jane holds him back.

The sergeant smiles knowingly. "I'll let Angela know you're alright."

"Thanks…" When the bomb squad men busy themselves with handling the aftermath of the explosion, Jane hesitantly steps to Maura's side, nudges her with her wounded arm as she is contemplatively watching the activities in her devastated office. "Could you please fix this for me before I bleed out?"

"You won't bleed out from a wound like this…," Maura murmurs, refusing to take a look.

"Well, still…" Jane tosses away a blood-stained tissue. "I can't hand in my paperwork if it has my blood all over the page…"

But Maura still doesn't move.

"You sure you're alright?" Slowly, Jane's exhilaration makes way for honest concern. "Don't worry, we'll find McCollough and make sure he'll join his cousin in prison…"

When she feels the brunette's hand on her arm, Maura finally averts her eyes from her office, looks down at Jane's fingers brushing over her skin. But as much as she is yearning for that touch, as much she is afraid to get too used to it. Seeking some space to breathe and to think, she turns away. "I'll have to find some anesthetics…"

Without waiting for an answer, she retreats to the other end of the room and rummages through some shelves in search for the required materials.

Happy to escape the necessity of another trip to the hospital, Jane leans against the wall, seizes the chance to take a deep breath herself.

"You got damn lucky, you know?" Dedo points out, rather redundantly, as he keeps her company for a few moments. "You always crazy like that?"

"Well, Mondays are usually boring, so I figured I'd spice things up a little," Jane chuckles confidently, but then the clanking noise of Maura tossing some medical instruments onto her autopsy table interrupts their chat. She holds up her still bleeding arm. "I should probably get this fixed…"

"Yeah, no worries, we'll handle things from here," Dedo smiles in agreement. When he is already half-way out of the door, he turns back around. "Oh, hey, my guys and I always have a drink after work whenever we successfully defuse a bomb. You should join us."

"Sounds good," Jane nods before hopping onto the autopsy table next to Maura, letting her legs dangle in the air.

"I'll tell you how I lost my finger," he promises. "And you can tell us what other crazy things you've done in your career."

"I don't think one night will be long enough for that," Jane jokes, while Maura looks at her arm and tries to ignore her banter with the bomb squad leader.

Dedo taps his forehead with his four remaining fingers of his right hand, then disappears around the corner.

Still hyped up, Jane watches Johnson and Fisher dismantle the ratchet system. "I wonder if I could get something like that installed in my apartment… This is fun…" But the medical examiner still ignores her talking and focuses on her arm instead. "Hey, next time you want me to get up at 5:30, you could pull me out of bed with this thing… oww!" Jane flinches when Maura rubs her arm with stingy anesthetics.

"Sorry," the blonde mumbles without looking up, trying to ignore a subtly throbbing pain in her own right hand as she reaches for a needle.

Slowly becoming aware of Maura's continued detachment, Jane frowns and curiously studies her pale features. But when she catches a glimpse from the corner of her eye of Fisher rolling the remains of Maura's chair out of her office, she can't help but fall back into old habits. "Well, I guess now is a suitable moment to tell you something…"

Unsure what to expect, Maura finally looks up. "What?"

"I never liked your chair," Jane grins teasingly. "It looked like it belonged into a dentist's office…"

Wondering why, after all those years, she was still expecting anything but a joke, Maura manages to muster at least the hint of a smile and directs her attention back to Jane's arm, attempting her best to close the wound with seamless stitches despite her trembling fingers.

Still searching for the cause of Maura's behavior, Jane aimlessly looks around until her eyes fall on the chaos in Maura's office. Surely, this isn't how the medical examiner planned to start her week. "Look at the bright side — you can redecorate your office and— ow!" She flinches again as Maura's needle pinches her injured skin. "Uh, I don't wanna complain, but I'm not one of your bodies — I can actually _feel_ this!"

Unable to continue to ignore the throbbing in her hand, Maura shrugs indifferently. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you sat down next to a bomb…"

And finally, it begins to dawn on Jane. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" Maura retorts. "You just saved my life…"

Switching to detective mode, Jane doesn't take her eyes off the medical examiner. "That doesn't really answer my question…"

But after another deep breath, Maura silently continues stitching her up, fully aware of Jane's inquisitive eyes resting on her.

"Maura…?"

As the pain in her own hand is getting stronger and all she wants to do is sit down, or lie down, or just curl up in a corner, Maura clenches her teeth and tries to complete her task as best as she can. But inevitably, her needle pricks Jane again when she finishes the last stitch.

And Jane gets more confused. "Are you doing this on purpose?!"

Frustrated, Maura drops the needle, relaxes her throbbing hand. "You really think I would hurt you on purpose?"

Sensing a dead-end, Jane shrinks back. "Well, no, but—"

"Maybe you should have gone to a hospital and let somebody else take care of it." Maura tosses a bandage into Jane's other hand. "Just put this on, then you'll be ready to get back to work."

Without further words, she rushes out of the room, disappears down the hallway, leaving a perplexed Jane behind.

Unsure what to do, Jane clumsily wraps the bandage around her arm, fixes it with some tape, and hops off the table, scratching her head in confusion. Before she gets the chance to look for Maura, Korsak appears in the door frame.

"Hey, Jane, we're heading out to see if McCollough shows up for work today. Maybe he'll try to keep his cover for a few days… I assume you want to join us?"

"Uh, yeah… I guess…," she sighs and halfheartedly heads for the door.

The sergeant notices her hesitation and off-balance appearance. "We can handle it alone if you'd rather want to take a break…"

"No, no… I'll join you," she quickly objects and follows him outside.

"What a way to start the week, huh?" Korsak worriedly studies her face and arm.

"Yeah…" Jane absentmindedly rubs her tired eyes as they hurry upstairs.

…

…

The next few hours fly by without any moment to breathe as several divisions of BPD combine their efforts in order to bring Lance McCollough to justice. And they succeed when their suspect indeed shows up for work at his funeral parlor, acting all innocent but with a sneaky grin permanently affixed to his face — until he steps into the break room and finds himself opposite a very angry group of homicide detectives and patrol officers. And in an ironic twist of fate, his downfall is brought upon by the same combination of his own arrogance and a certain medical examiner's attentiveness that has already landed his cousin in prison. Whereas Darren McCollough refused to consider the possibility that his little thallium murder plot might not be as infallible as he thought, Lance McCollough felt equally self-confident in his scheme and too lazy to bother about minor details such as that tattoo on his wrist. And so it happens that a hearing-impaired tattooer's accidental mix-up of the kanji for _fierce_ and _fear_ eventually results in both McCollough cousins spending the rest of their lives behind bars.

And now, after all statements have been recorded, after Julie Owens' alibi has also been confirmed, after the bomb squad's sniffer dog has scurried through all Crime Lab rooms without barking in alarm, and after some sort of normalcy has returned to BPD, Jane is finally ready to call it a day and head home. But she doesn't quite know anymore where exactly that is…

Several texts to Maura over the course of the day have remained unanswered, and she hasn't spoken to the medical examiner since her sudden escape from the morgue. And just as Jane caught a glimpse of Maura's dress right after noon when she came upstairs for her statement, Lieutenant Cavanaugh called her into his office for a long overdue speech on her continued recklessness at work. A few hours later, when Jane went down to the morgue, there was no sign of Maura either — just a deserted office and the rather vague hint from Susie that her superior had left _to take care of something_. And when the young criminalist did not even come out with more details when faced with Jane's inquisitive stare, the detective finally slouched her shoulders in defeat and trudged back to the elevator upstairs.

Thus, just as some church bells in the distance ring six o'clock, Jane aimlessly strolls out of BPD, without a clear purpose or destination. Cursing at the still drizzling rain, she stays close to the building on the way to her car, holding her dust-stained blazer over her head. But after a few steps, she simply slings it over her shoulder, doesn't bother anymore about getting wet.

Surprise brings her to a sudden stop as she turns around the corner and finds Maura's dark Prius still parked at the curb just a few feet away. Frowning in confusion, she checks her cell phone again — but her inbox is still as empty as a few minutes ago. Unsure what to do, Jane sinks down on a bench nearby, shielded from the rain by a roof extension above. Crossing her arms and huffing in frustration, she decides to just wait it out. Sooner or later, Maura would have to come pick up her car. And as she sits there by herself, fidgeting with the bandage on her arm, her mind slowly revisits the events of the day… how it started with Maura habitually invading her apartment the way she so often does… how she gladly risked starvation in exchange for a few more minutes with Maura… how natural it felt to squat down next to a deadly bomb just so Maura wouldn't be by herself… and how everything always leads back to Maura… naturally… because it is Maura… and because—

Her thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the familiar clacking of heels on the pavement, brisk at first, then slowing down, even pausing for a moment, but then continuing their approach until Maura reaches the bench and wordlessly sits down, her blazer slung over her right arm. And for a few moments, they both stare into the distance.

Stubborn and still irritated about being ignored all day, Jane is determined not to speak first.

Finally, like so many times before, it is Maura who breaks the silence. "How's your arm?"

And also like so many times before, Jane is unable to resist the softness and honest concern in the blonde's voice. "The bandage is amateurish, but the stitches are perfect…"

Instinctively, Maura reaches for the brunette's arm, scrutinizes the bandage. Hesitantly… "I'm sorry I left you like that…"

"Nah, it's okay," Jane concedes. "I shouldn't have asked you to do this right after you've spent an hour sitting on that stupid bomb."

"No, you shouldn't have," Maura concurs as she finishes her bandage inspection and rests her hand on Jane's wrist.

"But still, that's no reason to ignore me all day," the detective grumbles.

"I wasn't ignoring you," the medical examiner objects calmly. "I just had to take care of something…"

Trying in vain to remain calm herself, Jane glances at her from the side. "What in the world was so important that you couldn't even be bothered to send me a short text?!"

Instead of a response, Maura removes her blazer from her arm, reveals a short cast around her wrist.

"What happened?!" Worry instantly wipes all anger from Jane's face.

"Hairline fracture of my scaphoid," Maura explains. "It must have happened when we landed on the floor…"

"But…" For a moment, Jane is speechless as some pieces of the puzzle fall into place. "Didn't it hurt when you stitched me up?"

"I guess the release of endorphins after our little stunt initially suppressed the pain," Maura concludes. "And you were bleeding and wanted me to fix you—"

"But not when you're hurting," Jane objects. "You should've said something!"

"You don't listen to me anyway," Maura sighs.

"I _always _listen to you," Jane protests but shrinks back at the incredulous look she gets in response. "Most of the time… Sometimes…?"

"Like when I told you to leave my office this morning?"

"That was different… And why are you angry about me trying to help you?"

"I'm not angry about _that_," Maura points out, then pauses, searching for the right words. "I just… I can't stand it how you keep putting yourself in danger. You shoot yourself, you trade yourself in for hostages, you insist on staying in close proximity to a bomb… But you never think about the consequences, and _I'm _always the one who has to fix you afterward."

Unsure how to react, Jane frowns. "But… that's my job."

"You're a homicide detective, Jane. Your job is to solve murders, not to disarm bombs or bank robbers."

"So, you're saying I should just ignore all crimes that don't involve a dead body?"

"No, of course not." Another moment of silence… "But I'm afraid of the day when you'll be out of luck… when you'll end up on my table and I won't be able to fix you…"

Unwilling to even consider that possibility, Jane shakes her head. "That won't happen—"

"It _will _happen if you continue to rush into dangerous situations like this." Maura swallows hard, finally looks at Jane. "You're not invincible."

Defeated by the sadness in Maura's eyes, Jane slouches her shoulders. "I know…"

And Maura knows that the detective only has the best intentions. Subconsciously, she links her fingers with Jane's as she attempts to clarify her worst fear. "I'm really thankful for what you did for me today. And I know you love your job, so I will never ask you to stop doing what you love… But have you ever wondered what it would be like for the rest of us if something happened to you? What it would be like for me?"

Insecurely, Jane locks eyes with the blonde. "Well, yeah, it wouldn't be easy, but—"

"It would kill me, Jane," Maura admits, and her heart skips a beat at the thought. "If you ended up on my autopsy table, they would have to reserve the table next to you for me… because it would literally kill me."

A little overwhelmed, Jane resorts to her usual defense. "Uh, but that would suck… If you'd be dead, too, Pike would end up doing our autopsies. And you don't want that creep swinging his scalpel anywhere near our bodies — he is so incompetent, he could kill a dead person all over again."

And Maura knows that pattern all too well. "That's all you can do, isn't it? Make jokes about everything?"

"No, but that's the only way I can do my job," Jane points out, feeling more and more cornered. "If I focused on the thought that I could actually die, I wouldn't be able to show up for work. So, what do you expect me to do?"

"Nothing," Maura sighs in resignation. "As long as you don't expect me to just stand back and watch you get hurt…" After another moment of silence, Maura's own defense mechanism kicks in. She pulls her hand away and gets up. "I have to go."

Missing the warmth of Maura's fingers, Jane watches her walk towards her car, hesitates, but then leaps to her feet. "What about me?!"

The detective challengingly looks at the medical examiner as she turns back around in confusion.

And for some reason, Maura can't shake the feeling that she has just set off another bomb. "What about you?"

"How often did _I _have to stand back and watch you get hurt?" Jane builds herself up opposite Maura, subconsciously though but intimidating nonetheless. "Maybe I really don't always think things through, but neither do you. In fact, you've _majored _in making bad decisions!"

Tensing up, Maura tries to object, but Jane is just getting started.

"Someone you barely know needs a new kidney? Oh, sure, let's give her yours! Who needs two kidneys anyway, right? And who cares that things can go wrong in hospitals or that you felt miserable for weeks after that?!"

Again, Maura attempts to speak, but once the Rizzoli bomb has been triggered, any attempt to defuse it will fail.

"And what about Paddy Doyle, both junior _and _senior? They may be some of the worst mobsters this town has seen, but that doesn't stop you from organizing a cozy family get-together every now and then. What could go wrong, eh?"

Crossing her arms, Maura realizes that she is once again stuck.

"And shall we talk about your glorious love life?" Jane doesn't even try to hold herself back anymore. "Let's see, there's Dennis the Menace, who got turned on by trying to kill you… Then we have Brad Adams, who almost got you locked up for life… Then there's that Fairfield prick who conveniently forgot to mention that he killed his brother… And, of course, there's Ian, the one you call the love of your life. Where has _he _been all those years when you needed someone? Oh, right, he prefers to run and hide at the other end of the world — it must be true love then!"

Suddenly feeling as exposed as the naked bodies on her autopsy table, Maura can't do anything but listen as Jane dissects her life.

And for the briefest of moments, Jane stops when she realizes the force of her own words. But there is no turning back now. "So, you've made at least as many crappy decisions as I have, and I've watched you get hurt more often than I would care for! But that doesn't mean I will walk away. You can sit on as many bombs as you want — I will _always _sit there with you. Because… guess what, I have a favorite word, too. It's _Maura_, and it stands for everything that makes me happy. So, next time you make the wrong decision and get yourself in trouble, you can bet I will be there to make sure you get out alive and happy, too!"

Jane's words still float between them as they stare at each other in silence, the noise of the rush-hour traffic somehow seeming more distant than it is.

But then, when the detective is still catching her breath, Maura steps closer, her eyes filled with determination fed by Jane's speech. "Are you done?"

"I think so." Stubbornly, Jane crosses her arms.

"Good." Maura closes the distance between them. "Because I'm about to make another crappy decision, and you have three seconds left to change your mind and walk away…"

"Told you I won't do that," Jane whispers, her resistance crumbling away as Maura takes her hand. "You're stuck with me…"

"Then you'd better make sure I won't regret my decision…"

Feeling the brunette's hands invitingly pull her closer, Maura leans in until her lips find Jane's… cautiously… almost afraid to set off another bomb. But this time, she triggers something completely different and soon finds herself wrapped in Jane's arms, their lips as inseparable as their hands were back in her office.

Numerous heartbeats later, they finally pull apart, and Jane's lips curl into a smile. "I'm inclined to say some of your previous decisions have been much worse…"

"We'll see…," Maura smiles back before stealing another soft kiss.

"But regardless of what I said," Jane murmurs while still holding the blonde close, "could you please try not to sit down on another bomb… at least for a while?"

"I'll try," Maura promises and gently strokes Jane's neck with her unharmed hand. "If you promise you won't turn out to be another killer…"

"No worries there," Jane chuckles. "But I have to warn you: I come in a bundle with a hovering mother who will make you want to turn into a killer yourself…"

"Well.. It's a good thing I've already made friends in prison, isn't it?"

"Probably…"

Feeling the stress of the day finally vanish into oblivion, they share another affectionate kiss… lasting longer than the longest word in Maura's vocabulary… until it gradually merges into a warm embrace.

"Okay, so… that's Monday," Jane whispers into the blonde's ear. "What are we going to do with the rest of the week?"

"I'm sure we'll find something to do," Maura purrs enticingly but then pulls back, almost hesitant to ask. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"No…," Jane admits with a wink and a smile.

"Great, me neither," Maura happily plays along. "So, let's just do it then…"

"Okee dokee…" After sealing their bond with another kiss, Jane nods to the Prius. "You think you could give me a ride? I've been told it's more economical to use just one car…"

"I suppose I could do that…," Maura agrees after a moment of feigned deliberation, then reaches for her car keys.

As they are both about to get in the car, Jane notices that the rain has finally stopped. She pauses and pensively looks into the distance.

"What is it?" Maura curiously waits on the driver's side.

"Is that the smell you meant?" Jane meets her eyes. "What's it called again — petrichor?"

"Yes…, yes, it is," Maura confirms as she inhales a deep breath.

"I like it," Jane decides. "Smells nice…"

Moments later, the dark Prius leaves its spot and merges with the traffic as the scent of a promise and a fresh start still lingers in the air…

…

_**(END)**_


End file.
